


We Can't Make Up for the Lost Time that We Both Apologize for

by stuffingstilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Belly, Chubby Stiles, Kissing, Locker Room, M/M, chubby!Stiles, chubby!kink, insecure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:36:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1691837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffingstilinski/pseuds/stuffingstilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott can't believe he's just now noticing Stiles new weight...and he can't believe he likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Can't Make Up for the Lost Time that We Both Apologize for

**Author's Note:**

> one of the shorter stories i had in my archive that i thought i'd go ahead and upload! it's not super in depth but enjoy it anyway!

It’s not that Scott hadn’t been paying attention to Stiles, it’s just…well they’d all been a little distracted lately.

They were trying, they really were; but after the death of Allison and Aiden, plus the whole possessed Stiles things, nobody could blame them for being a little ( _or a lot_ ) distant and preoccupied at times. Regardless of their individual turmoil, they still all make an effort to be something other than hollow shells of their former selves. So when they’re walking through the cafeteria and some dick bumps into Stiles, of course Scott’s first reaction is to do something about it.

It happens really fast, they’re walking one second and then the next Stiles is standing there with some kid’s lunch all over his hoodie. “Jeez, you fat fuck, how ‘bout you watch where you’re going next time?”  

And he isn’t sure, but he must have been snarling or changing right then and there, because next thing he knows, Stiles is pushing him into the hallway and begging him to just ‘calm down _please_ ’ and ‘put his claws away’.   

“But that guy was a jerk!” he’s protests, regretting not pummeling that kid to the ground while he had a chance.

“It was an accident. I should’ve…I should’ve watched where I was going. Let’s just drop it,” Stiles says. He sounds dejected and as much as he doesn’t want to, Scott doesn’t want to push it. 

After a moment of awkward silence he sighs, “Well at least let me lend you a new shirt because you’re covered in food. I have one in my lacrosse locker, come on.”

Stiles follows him, albeit very reluctantly, as Scott leads him down the hall and into the empty locker room. He starts with the lock when suddenly Stiles is putting a hand out to stop him. “You know Scott, thanks but you don’t have to do this. Really, I’ll be okay in this.”

“Stiles there’s three periods left. You will _not_ be okay in that. It’s not that big of a deal. I’ll just pick it up from your house tomorrow or something.” And suddenly he registers the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat slowly increasing, like he’s nervous or…panicking.

“Scott really, I’m fine,” he reiterates, “I don’t need your shirt.”

The alpha ignores him, pulling a plain blue t-shirt from a bag inside his locker. He holds it out and watches his best friend frown as he takes it but doesn’t make any attempts to put it on. “The shirt’s clean, I swear.”

And that briefly gets Stiles to smile, but only for a second. He’s just staring intently at the shirt, like it personally wronged him or something. “I’m not worried about that. It’s just… _you know_ …”

“Just what?”

“Really Scott, you adorable obliviousness is flattering but it’s just you and me in here. You can be honest. We both know what’s wrong with the shirt. I can’t wear it outside this room.”

Scott just shakes his head, completely unaware of whatever Stiles is trying to hint at. Whatever it is, he clearly was not informed. “I honestly don’t know.”

Stiles glares for a moment, with a look on his face that screams if he has to say this out loud he’s going to be very pissed. It takes a few more moments of Scott looking pathetically lost for Stiles to accept the fact that maybe Scott _really doesn’t know_ what he’s talking about.  

“Your shirt,” Stiles starts, “It isn’t going to fit.”

Scott raises his brow because _what is Stiles talking about?_ Of course the shirt is going to fit. They’ve shared clothes plenty of times without a problem. Even after he got the bite and bulked up a little bit, they exchanged clothes just fine. “Why wouldn’t it? It is a medium isn’t it?”

Now Stiles is raising his brow, yet Scott just can’t seem to get the hint. He watches Stiles check the tag on the shirt and nod slowly. “Well yeah, it is and that’s the problem. I don’t wear a medium.” And when it continues to fall on deaf ears, he adds, “I don’t wear medium _anymore_.”   

Suddenly the words from the kid in the cafeteria pop back into Scott’s head. He hadn’t paid any attention to them before but thinking back, the kid had called Stiles ‘fat’. Stiles had always been tall and lanky, never anything other than that. If he’d put on any weight, well Scott had failed to notice…but in his defense Stiles _had_ been wearing a lot of baggy clothes lately. Even the hoodie he had on now hung a little more than they generally wore. Had Scott really missed something like that?

“At least try it on,” he encourages.

Stiles gives a slight grimace and then sighs. It’s not like he really _wants_ to wear this food stained hoodie for the rest of the day. “I don’t…alright fine, but you can’t laugh okay?”

Scott shrugs. Why would he laugh? They’re best friends. “Um, okay?”

He watches Stiles begin to pull the hoodie over his head and then he suddenly notices, all at once, that Stiles definitely has put on weight…and it isn’t  just five or ten pounds either. He can’t believe he’d been too distracted to notice a gain like this. His friend’s once slim frame has ballooned into something much thicker and flabbier. Stiles’ body is bulging out in ways he’d never imagined, fat just piled onto his middle forming a soft, round belly he’d never really bothered to notice before. Now that he has though, he can’t seem to take his eyes off the way Stiles’ belly jiggles when he moves or how it droops over the waist of his pants. Holy shit, Stiles _is_ fat. Furthermore, there’s no way he’s fitting into that shirt…at least not with this new found growth. 

Scott tilts his gaze up towards Stiles face for a moment to see the boy blushing deeply as he does his best to avoid making eye contact. He begins to pull the shirt over his head and it’s clear before he’s even made it halfway that there’s no way in the world that Scott’s t-shirt is covering Stiles’ large new belly. Even after he pulls it down as far as it can go, the bottom of his gut is still hanging out. The shirt is barely covering his belly button.

“See?” Stiles huffs defeated, resting his hands on top of his stomach and giving it a slight shake. The fat ripples underneath his hands in small waves, “I told you it wouldn’t fit, not with all of _this_ in the way.”

“I thought…I didn’t even realize.”

Stiles laughs, but not in the way he would if he found something to be funny. It’s more irritated and disbelieving. “You didn’t realize? It’s kind of hard to _miss_ Scott.”

He can’t seem to take his eyes off Stiles or his body. He’s completely enamored with all the weight his best friend has put on. He’s instantly obsessed, wondering when and how this happened, especially since he really hadn’t noticed a thing. As far as he knew, Stiles could have put on all this weight last night. “I swear I didn’t see it, not until now.”

“Well thanks, I’m flattered. At least I managed to hide all of this from _somebody_. Now if only I could get rid of it.”

“Get rid of it?” the wolf asks. His voice sounds nervous and he is nervous. He’s not sure why, but he’s afraid Stiles will say something about dieting or working out—anything that would counteract all his newly developed rolls and curves.  

“Um, _yeah_. I would prefer not to be the size of a small hippo if at all possible,” is Stiles response, looking down at his belly, “I don’t even know what happened, but after Allison and Aiden I just…I was so depressed I was just trying to cope and next thing I know my old clothes aren’t fitting and my stomach is hanging out over my pants. I swear I didn’t mean to get so fat.”

“But you’re…don’t say that Stiles. You’re not fat.”

“Please,” scoffs the other teen, “I’m fat, not delusional. Look at me Scott. _My stretch marks have stretch marks_.”

And Scott almost wants to laugh because he hasn’t _stopped_ looking since Stiles took his hoodie off. He wants to memorize every swell and curve there is from the overhang of his gut to the rolls of pure fat that form his love handles and muffin top. Something about it, he just likes. He wants to touch it, poke it, prod it. He wants to know what it’s like to hold that much fat in his own hands.

“Stiles you look great.”

“I look like a cow,” he says offhandedly, rubbing the roundest part of his stomach.

“Yeah well this cow is absolutely adorable, really.” He takes a step closer, unaware of what’s happening until he’s a mere few inches away from Stiles.  

“That’s funny.”

“I’m serious Stiles. I just…” he doesn’t bother to finish his sentence, his lips crashing against his best friend’s and his hands are on either side of his plump middle. Each is gripping a mound of fat between his fingers. He wants Stiles, wants him _bad_ , him and every single ounce he’s put on since everything happened. Maybe it’s selfish and or weird but he’s _happy_ with all the weight Stiles has seemed to put on, even if his best friend isn’t.   

It takes him a moment to register what the hell he’s just done, the lines he’s crossed; but once he does, he’s pulling back and throwing his hands up in surrender. “Stiles, dude, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I shouldn’t have…I should’ve asked or something. I’m sorry,” he rambles.

Scott isn’t sure whether he should keep apologizing or just bolt while he has the chance. What the hell was he thinking? Stiles gave him no reason to believe that was even an option and here he is acting on some strange, sudden impulse. He can feel his face flushing with embarrassment as Stiles laughs and—wait, _what?_ Laughing…why is he laughing?

“How is this funny?”

If nothing else, Scott wants the sexual torture that is Stiles’ belly shaking as he laughs to stop. It’s not fair to tease him with something he can’t have.

“Calm down, Scott. _Jeez_. This is the closest you’ve looked to having an asthma attack since you got the bite. It’s not that big of a deal really.”  

Not that big of a deal? Is he kidding?

Scott runs his hands through his hair, trying to calm down and attempt to figure out what has become of his life. “I just kissed you. How is that not freaking you out right now?”

Stiles shrugs, drawing out his words as he replies, “I don’t know? Maybe I liked it?”  

“You liked it?” He can’t imagine how anyone would like having a kiss from their childhood best friend spontaneously forced upon them, not like _this._ He’s crossing so many friendship lines right now he can’t even count them all.

“Maybe? We should probably try it again, just to make sure,” he smirks and Scott is having a hard time believing that this is even happening. He decides it’s better not to ask questions and to try to accept the green light he’s being given before Stiles changes his mind. He leans in and this time he brings their lips together slower and softer before creeping his hand up and grazing it over the side of Stiles’ belly. He still feels like he took it too far the first time. He doesn’t want to freak his best friend out.

“If you want to touch it,” Stiles says, pulling back and looking down at Scott’s hand, “then _touch it_.”

“It won’t bother you?”

“It’s a little weird but I’ll get used to it,” he says nonchalantly, “It’s not like it’s going anywhere any time soon and you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

“For what?”

“For _you,_ Scott. _Duh_.”  

Stiles says it like it was obvious but he honestly had no idea. “You really want this right now? Right here?”

He’s attempting to be polite but Stiles lets out a frustrated scoff, obnoxiously rolling his eyes and pulling Scott in for another kiss. He places one of his own hands of top of Scott’s and forces the other male to take a firm grip on the extra weight adorning his stomach, “I’m a sexually deprived fat kid with one of the hottest werewolves in the country willing to actually have sex with me right now? Are you kidding? _Of course I want this_.” 

Scott is damn near speechless as he kneads his hand into Stiles’ flesh. It’s soft beneath his fingertips and he can’t help the twitch that starts to feel below his waist. He’s pretty sure Stiles can feel it against his legs because suddenly he’s looking at Scott with a shit-eating grin.

“We’ve probably got a solid twenty or thirty minutes until the next class starts,” he says. “Are we doing this or what?”  

Scott is speechless so he just nods his head. Stiles immediately goes to undo his own jeans and all his best friend can do for the first few seconds is stare as his belly flops around and wonder how the hell he got so lucky? He’s still having trouble even believing that this is happening until he feels Stiles’ hands messing with the still clasped button on his own jeans and whispering, “You know, I’ve never done it in a locker room before?”   

And that’s when he finally relaxes and completely embraces the moment, because neither has he, but something tells him his first experience is about to be a really good one.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks! the title is from "dare4distance" by nevershoutnever


End file.
